


you're the habit i can't break

by silverkatana



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:49:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21918622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverkatana/pseuds/silverkatana
Summary: they always say that once learned, a habit is hard to get rid of.(alternatively: yoon jeonghan is in love with choi seungcheol.)
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	you're the habit i can't break

They always say that once learned, a habit is hard to get rid of.

Jeonghan stares up at the ceiling, barely making anything out in the gloom, his eyes shifting and his mind sleepless for what feels like the hundredth night in a row.

Perhaps lying awake in the hours that everyone else is spending asleep and thinking about Seungcheol has become a habit, too.

It's not like he ever intended to end up like this. 

He never intended to spend his nights alone in a room he doesn’t want to be in (not by himself), never intended to be losing sleep over someone who was never his, never intended to let the autumn chill seep through the glass of his windows and into his skin to remind him too starkly of the warmth that he once had by his side.

Jeonghan never intended to fall in love.

He never intended to think anything of their shared conversations, their mutual concern for each other, the lilts in their voices when they spoke to one another. He never intended to read too much into their exchanges of fleeting touch, of secretive whispers, of nights spent laughing over shared drinks and getting drunk on their laughter.

He never meant to let Seungcheol fall asleep drunk in his room. He never meant to fall asleep sober in his Seungcheol’s room, either. He never meant to take comfort in the warmth of Seungcheol’s arm unknowingly draping itself over his waist amidst the gentle lulls of sleep. 

He never intended to hear his heartbeat ringing through his ears far more rapidly than it should at Seungcheol’s every action. He never intended to feel the current of emotions that rushed through him every time they saw each other, or the smile that fell naturally upon his lips each and every time.

All of it happened all the same.

Jeonghan never intended to learn what it meant to fall in love with someone.

But in the end, Seungcheol became the habit he couldn’t shake off.

It’s become a habit now to spend his days thinking of every shared conversation they’ve had, even the most meaningless of topics; he remembers it all, from what Seungcheol felt like having for lunch three months back to the soju brands he liked best. 

It’s become a habit now to turn towards the door as the days get colder, almost expecting Seungcheol to walk in with a furrow in his brow and a cup of coffee in his hands, his eyes widening in surprise and his lips parting to scold Jeonghan for dressing thinly and relying on his blanket for warmth. It’s become a habit now to expect Seungcheol to cave in and huddle in the warmth of his blankets with him, their laughter saturating the air, their voices dying down into gentle chatter.

It’s become a habit now to curl his fingers around a bottle of alcohol in the middle of the night, to look at the door and wonder why Seungcheol isn’t coming in to enjoy it with him. It’s become a habit now to drink his loneliness away and to get drunk off his sadness, collapsing against his bed frame and pretending through half-lidded eyes that Seungcheol is still right there with him. It’s become a habit now to drink himself into deep, dreamless sleep so that he doesn’t have to be faced with the realisation that Seungcheol isn’t.

(And it's become a habit to pretend that it's not his own fault.)

Jeonghan pulls his blanket over his head and shuts his eyes tight, trying to rid of the thoughts running too loud and too fast in his head, trying to deafen the sound of his heart pounding through his head beat after beat.

It’s become a habit now to look for something no longer there, to miss someone already long gone, and to wish for something he never had to come back.

And, Jeonghan reflects bitterly as he swallows back the tears that stubbornly threaten to spill along his cold cheeks, habits are always so impossible to break.

* * *

(one.)

Their laughter is so loud that Jeonghan is almost afraid they might wake the other members up. It’s late at night after all, and the rest - if not all - of the members staying on Jeonghan’s floor of the dorm have long gone to bed. And yet, despite all his worries, there’s something in the lightness of Seungcheol’s tone and the dizzying feeling in his own heart that makes it hard to stop.

So they don’t. Not until much later, anyways, after time ticks the hours away and the dark begins to melt into a place where dawn and nightfall hang equally suspended in the sky, late enough for them to realise that they might regret sleeping any later, early enough for them to contemplate staying up for longer.

Seungcheol is the first to regain some form of conscience. “We should go to sleep,” he mumbles, his eyes barely remaining open, a smile fitting crookedly yet wonderfully on his lips. “Maybe I should go back downstairs.”

“By the time you drag yourself back down there, it’ll be time to get up,” Jeonghan shoots back, his words blurred half by alcohol, half by sleep. “Just stay here until morning comes.”

And maybe it’s because he’s drunk, but as the words fall out past his lips it sounds like a stupidly attractive offer - and Seungcheol must agree with him, because with another of his somewhat lopsided smiles, he gets to his feet and collapses onto Jeonghan’s bed.

Jeonghan falls into the spot right next to him.

And both of them reek too strongly of alcohol, and Jeonghan is almost certain that it’ll leave a scent lingering on his bed that’ll be hard to get rid of unless he washes his sheets _again_.

But as he instinctively curls himself towards Seungcheol’s warmth and as Seungcheol silently drapes his arm over Jeonghan’s frame, he decides that having to wash his sheets for the second time that week is just a small price to pay.

* * *

(two.)

“The kids are being too noisy,” Jeonghan complains as he steps into Seungcheol’s room without warning. “I was trying to sleep, but I gave up, so I ended up coming here instead.”

Seungcheol blinks at him, his room mostly dark aside from a dim light in the corner and the glow of his computer screen, before breaking into a chuckle. “So you came here to sleep?”

“Not really.” Jeonghan shrugs. “I’ll just stay over until they quieten down.”

Seungcheol lets out a small snicker at that. “They’ll never quieten down.”

Jeonghan responds with a roll of his eyes at that, knowing that Seungcheol’s words ring uncomfortably true and that he’ll probably end up having to sleep amidst all the noise. “I’ll be able to fall asleep eventually.”

The room is filled with nothing more than the sound of Seungcheol’s fingers hitting the computer keyboard, and Jeonghan seeks temporary solace in the quiet that falls like a comforting blanket across the floor. It's a nice change from the chaos going on on the upper floor.

“You know,” Seungcheol is the first to break the silence, “You could just sleep here.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “And let our managers freak out in the morning when they find my room empty?”

“They’ll find you here eventually anyway,” Seungcheol points out, shutting his computer down and swiveling his chair to face Jeonghan. “Might as well if you want a less disruptive sleep.”

He tilts his head in consideration, recalling the noise that he had escaped from on the upper floor - Seokmin and Mingyu had gone up to join the members, and Seokmin and Seungkwan when drunk were _not_ a quiet pair - before giving up on the idea of hoping to get a peaceful rest upstairs, instead flinging himself onto Seungcheol’s bed.

“Where’s Wonwoo?” he mumbles, burying himself under Seungcheol’s blankets. 

“I think he went with Jun to the convenience store.” Seungcheol pulls off his shirt, replacing it with his pyjama top. “Besides, he wouldn’t care if he saw you here.”

Jeonghan shrugs, patting the bed. “Then come here quickly. It’s weird to fall asleep in someone else’s room alone.”

Seungcheol laughs but complies immediately, allowing himself to collapse in the spot next to Jeonghan. It’s a little cramped, considering how the bed is _technically_ supposed to be for one person, and the mattress is a little harder than his own, but he doesn’t mind.

Seungcheol drapes his arm limply over Jeonghan’s body, his breath warm against Jeonghan’s neck; this time neither of them smell of alcohol. It's a surprisingly pleasant change. “Don’t make this a habit,” Jeonghan whispers, closing his eyes and allowing himself to succumb to his tiredness.

He receives a faint smile in response.

“I’ll try.”

* * *

(three.)

“I have a girlfriend,” Seungcheol says conversationally, leaning back against Jeonghan’s bed frame as he takes another sip of soju.

Jeonghan pauses mid-way through pouring himself another half-glass. “Say that again?” he hums, trying to keep both his voice and hands steady as he nearly spills soju onto his table. 

“I’m starting to date someone,” Seungcheol repeats himself, peacefully oblivious to the way Jeonghan pours soju down his throat like it’s water and he's been dehydrated for the past twenty-four hours. “I haven’t really told anyone yet, but I figured I’d have to reveal it eventually.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan responds blankly. Perhaps the alcohol is what’s beginning to burn his throat, which is why it’s beginning to sting so much. Perhaps he’s drunk, and that’s why his thoughts are all rushing about wildly in his head. Perhaps he’s long lost his mind out of exhaustion, so half of him feels like screaming and another half feels like breaking down and sleeping forever.

Perhaps it’s become a habit to make excuses for himself, and because of that it’s become so much easier to lie to himself. Perhaps it’s become a habit to ignore all the warning signs, and thus he’s both surprised and not surprised at the sudden confession that Seungcheol makes. Or perhaps it’s become a habit to distance himself from his own feelings, and perhaps that’s why he’s hit with bittersweet resentment when he realises that the truth still hurts despite his best efforts.

“Anyway,” Seungcheol continues, finishing off the rest of his glass, not fully noticing Jeonghan staring vacantly at his own emptied one, “We should go to sleep now. We have schedules tomorrow afternoon.”

“Mm.” Jeonghan puts his glass to the side, clambering onto his own bed and staring at the ceiling for a while until his train of thought is interrupted by Seungcheol’s voice.

“Not leaving any room for me?”

Jeonghan closes his eyes. A part of him wants to say _no_ , push Seungcheol out, and close the door in his face, just so that he can be left alone to wallow in his own stupid misery. Another part of him wants to just ignore Seungcheol and lie there forever, drowning the world out and hoping that Seungcheol will eventually give up on him and just leave.

The part of him that wins in the end is the part that forces his body to roll over to the edge to give Seungcheol space on the bed.

“For a moment I was scared that you were going to kick me out,” Seungcheol teases.

Jeonghan re-opens his eyes as Seungcheol makes himself comfortable, tugging the blankets over his body and rearranging the pillows.

He smiles thinly.

“Don’t make it a habit.”

Seungcheol laughs. It’s a familiar sound, but it’s a sound of happiness that only ends up leaving scars of sadness written across Jeonghan’s heart.

(He wishes he knew how to erase them.)

“I think it’s already become one.”

Jeonghan lets the ghost of a smile flit across his lips. It’s not one of joy, but he wouldn’t describe it as one of sorrow, either. Just that. A smile.

“You should break it.”

Seungcheol drapes his arm over Jeonghan’s waist. It’s heavy.

“What if I can’t?”

Jeonghan doesn’t know how to reply.

* * *

He wakes up to the feeling of tears on his face and the sound of someone knocking on his door.

“Can I come in?” the voice half-whispers, half-shouts from the other end. And he’s barely awake, with his thoughts rushing too loud in his mind to focus on anything else, but he recognises the voice all the same.

It’s Seungcheol.

“No,” he hisses back sharply.

The door opens anyway.

And, as though it’s a habit, he feels his body go weak, the angry words dying in his throat and all the shaky ‘ _get out_ ’s fading into oblivion on his tongue. Seungcheol stands before him like a hallucination born out of what has felt like his own descent into madness, or like an apparition he’s seen too many times over and over again in his dreams - or nightmares, maybe, he can’t tell anymore.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Seungcheol asks, the dark circles under his eyes prominent, weariness evident in his tone as he steps in and closes the door behind him. “Why has everything just… stopped?”

Jeonghan avoids his gaze. “We’ve been busy.”

“Have you been crying?”

“No.”

Jeonghan’s denial is quickly met with Seungcheol moving forward, alarm flaring in his eyes as he sees the red of Jeonghan’s. “You have,” he accuses, “Why are you crying?”

“Why are you in my room at three in the morning?” Jeonghan shoots back sourly.

Seungcheol takes a step back, confusion flitting over his features. “I missed you.”

_Not in the same way that I’ve been missing you_.

“It’s not like we’re dead.” Jeonghan turns, pulling the blanket up over his head, his voice coming out muffled. “We still see each other. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You know exactly what I’m saying,” Seungcheol sighs. “What happened to our friendship?”

Jeonghan ignores him. Minutes pass like that, with Seungcheol standing helplessly by his bed and with him keeping his eyes shut tight with the blanket over his head, and he begins to hope that perhaps Seungcheol would give up and just go away.

Up until the mattress shifts, and Seungcheol falls into place in the empty spot on the side of Jeonghan’s bed. Jeonghan sits upright in an instant, ready to shove Seungcheol away, but the leader of the group catches his wrists with a wince, having narrowly avoided a direct hit, his dark eyes burning into Jeonghan’s own. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan grunts, ripping his arms away from Seungcheol’s touch. “I’ve just been tired recently, that’s all.”

“Don’t lie.” Seungcheol doesn’t budge from his position. “Won’t you just tell me?”

“ _No_ ,” Jeonghan almost spits, hugging his knees to his chest as he pinpoints Seungcheol with a glare, “Why do you even need to know, anyway?”

Seungcheol catches his sleeve gently as he reaches out again in an attempt to push Seungcheol off the bed. There’s a moment of hesitance that hangs between them as Seungcheol searches for the right words to say; his grip tightens against Jeonghan’s sleeve before he allows himself to let go, his arm falling limply against the mattress with a muted thud.

“So?” Jeonghan presses, flinching inwardly at the ice in his own voice. “If you can’t explain yourself, then just go.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

The words fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth like snowfall at the start of winter - gentle, plaintively beautiful, melting softly against the hard silence of the room.

And, as though it’s become a habit of his to cry over Seungcheol, Jeonghan lets the tears spill down his face again.

“Don’t cry,” Seungcheol mumbles, reaching out to tug on Jeonghan’s sleeve, coaxing him to lie back down. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, closing his eyes and wiping his tears away as he feels Seungcheol lifting the blankets over both of their bodies. 

Seungcheol lets out a low humming noise, curling himself closer to Jeonghan. He must have felt Jeonghan stiffen at the way their arms brushed, for he froze mid-way through his movement, a quiet question leaving his lips, frightened almost, “... Can’t I stay for tonight?”

Jeonghan lets out a long, shaky breath. “Why?”

“I think,” Seungcheol pauses, carefully resting his arm along Jeonghan’s waist, “It’s become a habit.”

Jeonghan doesn’t reply.

Like it’s a habit, he lets himself sink into Seungcheol’s light embrace, and allows his brain to re-memorise the touch of Seungcheol’s warmth. 

Like it’s a habit, he lets himself fall asleep to the sound of his and Seungcheol’s breathing mingled in the otherwise still air, and the sound of his own heart thudding in his ears, beat after beat.

Like it’s a habit, he lets himself slip back into the realisation that he’s still in love with someone who doesn’t love him the same way.

And like it's a habit, he lets himself love Seungcheol all the same.

Jeonghan never intended to learn what it meant to fall in love with someone.

And yet, in the end, Seungcheol became the habit he couldn’t break.

**Author's Note:**

> so,, it's been an insanely long time since i've written anything & thus i decided i'd sit back down & write stuff today! i know it's not the best but hope you enjoyed this fic nonetheless <3


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